


Days of Darkness

by Cassy27



Series: Nessun Dorma [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Jealous!Wilson, Light BDSM, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sex, Wilson and Wesley love each other, blowjob, dub-con, they don't really have a healthy relationship though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassy27/pseuds/Cassy27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If done right, Murdock could be on your side. He’d no longer be Hell’s Kitchen’s devil. He’d be your devil.”<br/>“And I would be forced to watch you … and him …” Speaking the words seemed to physically hurt Wilson. He was spitting them out through gritted teeth and his face turned red with outrage. <br/>“A sacrifice I am willing to make,” Wesley said.</p><p>Wesley realizes he has a strong pull on Matthew which he wants to abuse. Wilson isn’t sure he’s willing to share him. As always, Matthew is caught in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is part II of the 'Nessun Dorma'-series. So it is set in the same universe and it follows that story. Some knowledge of what happened in 'Silver Shadows' is probably handy. Or you could just read for the smut ;) I chose a 'Rape/Non-con' warning, just to be safe. Events between Wesley and Matthew are very twisted after all.
> 
> Thank you, Greenloki, for once again being my awesome beta!

The sun was blaring down on him. For an early day in May, it was torturously warm, and if Wesley was forced to wait outside by the car for very much longer, he feared he would melt – figuratively, of course. He exhaled slowly and unbuttoned his vest, hoping that that would cool him down, but as he predicted, it didn’t.

Annoyance slowly seeped into every pore of his skin and Wesley crossed his arms before his chest. He glanced up at the massive building in front of him. Wilson was talking to an influential council-member at the moment. Getting him on their side would ease their work, but Wesley didn’t doubt Wilson would sway the man. After all, everyone had a price. He simply hoped Wilson would find that right price sooner rather than later.

The ticking of a cane against the sidewalk was the first factor that drew his attention. His head snapped sideways and his dark brown eyes easily landed onto the blind man making his way through the crowd. Just the sight of him had Wesley’s heart skip a beat, memories flooding back to him – good ones and bad ones. The day after he … paid him a little visit, a guard had been foolish enough to untie the man so he could eat. Fifteen minutes later, Matthew Murdock had escaped, much to Wilson’s outrage. The guard was never seen again.

Pushing himself away from the side of the SUV he had been leaning against, Wesley turned to Matthew, the edges of his lips curving upwards in a vicious sort of smile. Of all the places to run into him, it had to be in the heart of the city, in broad daylight. How thrilling.

Matt halted a few feet away and while his eyes were shielded by dark sunglasses, Wesley liked to think that those beautiful eyes of his were darting all around. No doubt Matt had latched onto his breathing pattern and quite possibly studied the rhythmic beating of his heart. Wesley sighed contently, the act reaching Matt’s ears, because he pressed his lips together until they were nothing but two thin lines.

It was fascinating to watch him. Would he turn around and return from where he came? Would he cross the street and avoid contact? Or would he man up and continue walking? Wesley put his money on the latter.And he was right. He watched Matt inhale deeply before he started forward again, the ticking of his white cane against the pavement resuming.

“Well, isn’t this a coincidence,” Wesley said velvety once he found Matt close enough.

Matt came to a halt and looked around – or pretended to at least. Wesley still wished he knew what the world looked like to Matt. “You here, three SUV’s, and a dozen men dressed in black all around us,” Matt said, his gaze focusing on Wesley, at least, he assumed it did, “Which council-member is Fisk trying to bribe now?”

“You know which one,” Wesley replied blandly. He folded his hands before his stomach and straightened his back. It felt bizarre knowing that he was talking to the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but there was nothing he could do, not in the open, in such a public place, and Matthew knew it.

“And here you are, waiting outside like a good lapdog,” Matt said with a pleased smile plastered on his face.

Wesley laughed at the comment. “You look …” He searched for the right word as he scanned Matt’s appearance, but eventually he settled on a simple:“Good.”

The cut underneath his right eye was mostly healed; nothing but a thin, red line remaining. And the bruise on the left side of his face had faded. Someone had attended to his wounds with utmost care, and the idea that the skin of Matt’s torso was probably healed as well bothered him. Matthew had looked beautiful bound to that chair, blood covering nearly every inch of him.

The pleased smile on Matt’s face didn’t falter. “How hateful is it that you can’t touch me right now?” He asked, every word sharp and biting, and he had the audacity to cock his head sideways in a demeaning manner. “How much do you wish you could just grab me and take me back to the old factory to kill me?”

Wesley inhaled sharply and untangled his hands. There was shift in the air, a shift within him, and Matthew sensed it. He tensed, his hand squeezing the white cane tightly. A soft, short chuckle escaped Wesley’s lips.

“How much do _you_ wish I would take you back?” He asked in return. Matt turned twitchy, his head moving in every direction. His lips were pressed together again. Gone was that pleased smile. Good. “We experienced quite a moment, didn’t we?” He took a step closer towards him and, much to his delight, Matt didn’t move away. He stood frozen, every muscle in his body seemingly locked in place. “I know your dirty secret, little devil,” He said in hushed tones, the words only meant for Matt.

“Don’t,” Matt breathed.

Wesley lifted a hand and let the tips of his fingers brush down the side of Matt’s neck. Matt arched away from the touch, but only a little. Either he refused to show fear or he didn’t want to move away at all. Satisfaction coursed through Wesley’s veins. He felt the racing of Matt’s pulse beneath his touch, felt the irregularity.

“How many times have you thought back to that moment?” Wesley asked.

He let his thumb trace the sharp line of Matt’s jaw and, again, Matt didn’t move away. Matt stared ahead, into nothingness, as a flush crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his breath faltered inside his chest. Wesley’s thumb slipped to Matthew’s lower lip, but Matt latched onto his wrist then, the grip unrelenting.

“The answer would disappoint you, I’m afraid,” Matt spat out. He shoved Wesley’s hand down and away.

“So you _don’t_ enjoy the idea of someone holding you down and hurting you?” Wesley didn’t try and touch Matthew again, but instead took another step closer, into his personal space. He could feel Matt’s warm breath on his face each time he exhaled. He could see him swallow heavily at his words and hear the frantic beating of his heart, even in the midst of the loud city traffic. “You _don’t_ fantasize about someone cutting into your skin, making you bleed, until you beg for pleasure to overtake the pain? Until you beg for release?”

Matt growled, anger passing over his features and contorting them.

Wesley laughed, the smile splitting open his face. “I doubt your friend Foggy can give you what you want,” He said silkily, enjoying the control he held over the situation, “And Miss Page is too busy running around with Mr. Urich to pay you much attention. That leaves that nurse of yours, the one who undoubtedly patched you up after your escape, but as far as I can tell, she doesn’t seem like that kind of person either.”

“Are you threatening me?” Matt demanded, his anger ringing in his voice.

“Always so quick to jump to conclusions,” Wesley said with his eyes rolling, “Pay attention, Matthew. I’m not threatening you, and I certainly have no interest in threatening your friends. I am making a proposition.”

The words sunk in, but only after a few seconds did they click inside Matthew’s mind. The man turned absolutely furious, his body shaking with it. “You think I would let you–” He bit away whatever he wanted to say next. Frankly, it was amusing to see Matt squirm as he did, unable to form coherent thoughts, unable to find the proper way to behave. “You’re wrong,” He hissed.

“You want it,” Wesley said, his voice low, calm.

“You’re _wrong_ ,” Matt repeated wheezily.

“Your body betrays you.”

Wesley took one final step closer to the man, their bodies a mere inch away from each other. With calculated movements, he folded a hand around Matthew’s, around the one holding the cane. Matt’s skin felt hot and sweaty, but that wasn’t what drew his attention down to the touch. The fact that Matt didn’t even pull away was.

“Just thinking back to that moment excites you,” He murmured to the blind man, “My hands on your body, my nails scratching at your skin, my teeth marking you …” He dipped his head ever so slightly and inhaled sharply. He could practically _smell_ Matt’s arousal. “You’d give anything to relive that moment again.”

Hands shoved at his chest. Wesley stumbled back, chuckling as he let his gaze roam Matthew’s body for a second time in under ten minutes. His chest was heaving and his hands clenched and unclenched around the white cane. His muscles rippled with anger and frustration just underneath his skin, but most importantly, there was a slight bulge in his trousers.

“Careful, little devil,” Wesley said, the words dripping with gratification, “We’re out in public.”

It was obvious Matt wanted to toss the cane aside and assault him. His hands probably itched to punch him, to make him bleed, but there was nothing he could do, not without betraying himself. Wesley huffed out a content laugh and stepped back, returning to stand before the SUV, hands folded casually before his stomach.

“You should be on your way,” He said, “I’m sure you have a lot of work to do.”

Fury and hostility radiating from him, Matthew stalked away, the ticking of his cane on the sidewalk just a tad too loud. People stepped aside for him and threw him confused and curious glances. Wesley wondered what exactly was going through that mind of his right now. Thoughts of pain and pleasure? Fantasies of strangling him? In any case, it was a beautiful sight to watch him walk away.

Leaning back against the side of the SUV, Wesley cocked his head sideways and let his gaze rake the length of Matthew’s back, all the way to that perky little ass of his. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. It seemed he had uncovered Matthew Murdock’s weakness.

And he was hell-bent on exploiting it.

He just needed to talk to Wilson about it.

• • •

Wilson returned half an hour later, a pleased smile on his face, which was good. It meant he had been able to bribe the council-member and would now be in a good, more perceptible state of mind. Wesley straightened his back and let his previously folded hands fall beside his body. When Wilson’s gaze locked with his, they both smiled.

“It has gone well?” Wesley asked.

“It has,” Wilson replied.

Wesley opened the car door for him and Wilson got in. Before he got in, too, he turned to the guard usually riding with them in the back. “Another car,” Was all he needed to say. The business he wished to discuss with Wilson was not meant for anyone’s ears.

The guard nodded.

Once they drove off, Wesley cleared his throat to draw Wilson’s attention. They were seated opposite each other, as they always were since it made talking easier, and their knees brushed together. These small touches sent shivers down Wesley’s spine. On a very rare occasion, when they found themselves alone in the car and Wilson felt particularly affectionate, Wilson would place a hand on Wesley’s thigh and keep it there.

“You will never believe who I ran into,” He started. Wilson stared at him, intently, and waited for him to continue. “Matt Murdock.” At the mere mention of the name, Wilson’s hands turned to fists, his knuckles turning white. Wesley liked to believe his actions were fueled more by jealousy than by hatred. “We spoke,” He said.

“And you let him walk away?” Wilson asked with dismay in his voice.

“What did you expect me to do?” Wesley asked in return. “Put a bullet between his eyes, right outside of Council-member Harrison’s office in broad daylight?”

Wilson glared at him, unappreciative of his sarcastic tone – which was not how this conversation was supposed to go.

Wesley licked his lips and lowered his head.

A long silence followed, which unnerved him. Wesley glanced up and found Wilson’s eyes still on him, locked onto him, unyielding and sharp. He wished he could take back his words. He hadn’t thought them through, hadn’t weighed them properly, now everything might be ruined, because there was no denying that Wilson was a proud man who tolerated no friction, certainly not from him.

“You said you spoke,” Wilson eventually said, “What did you speak about?”

“You know what we spoke about,” Wesley answered.

Wilson growled and looked away from him, out of the tinted window of the SUV.

“This gives us leverage, Wilson,” Wesley continued, only conviction in his voice.

It was enough to pull Wilson’s attention right back to him. His light brown eyes narrowed suspiciously and his hands had yet to relax. “I want him dead, Wesley,” He spat out the words, spat out his _name_ , and Wesley couldn’t help but flinch, “He has cost me money and men and resources. He nearly cost me you.”

He almost snorted at the idea, but wisely held back. _Vanessa_ nearly ended them. Besides, Wesley would never willingly leave Wilson’s side. He had stressed that issue plenty of times, but it was in moments such as these that Wilson’s insecurities became exposed again.

Deep down, he was a man afraid of losing those closest to him.

A pleased smile curved his lips upwards. It was nice knowing he was needed, that he was craved.

“Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer,” He began. He stared directly into Wilson’s eyes, needing him to understand what he was trying to convey before he jumped to conclusions – though the conclusions he’d make would probably be correct. “Murdock dead would certainly make things easier, but imagine how your business would look like with Murdock on your side.”

Wilson slowly spread out his fingers and began to rub the palm of his hands against his thighs. His head was tilted forward slightly, but his gaze was fixed on Wesley, studying him. “What are you suggesting?” He demanded tightly.

“Something you won’t like, but a necessity nonetheless,” Wesley replied, “Matthew has darkness inside of him. It lurks just underneath his skin and when we were … together, I let it out and controlled it. He was desperate, Wilson, he still is.”

“No,” Came Wilson’s answer.

“You would let this opportunity pass?” Wesley asked, stunned. He knew he was asking a lot, but this could mean the start of a new era! Could Wilson not see that? “If done right, Murdock could be on your side. He’d no longer be Hell’s Kitchen’s devil. He’d be _your_ devil.”

“And I would be forced to watch you … and _him_ …” Speaking the words seemed to physically hurt Wilson. He was spitting them out through gritted teeth and his face turned red with outrage.

“A sacrifice I am willing to make,” Wesley said.

Wilson’s hand latched onto the collar of his vest and yanked at it, forcing Wesley forward. Wesley slid from his seat and fell onto his knees. His eyes widened and darted upwards, looking up at Wilson who looked seconds away from devouring him.

“You call it a sacrifice,” Wilson sneered, “I think eagerness would be a better word.”

Wesley grabbed the hand holding onto the collar of his vest, but he didn’t try and remove it. He simply held it. It was be so easy to become angry, too, but that would lead them nowhere. So instead, Wesley shuffled even closer to Wilson, forcing himself between his already parted knees and with his free hand, he brushed the side of Wilson’s thigh, the gesture meant to calm and soothe.

“I want to see you on top of this city, this world even,” He started. His voice lay thick with conviction. “My loyalty lies with you and you alone, you know this. I am willing to die for the world you are trying to build, Wilson. I am willing to die for _you_.” He shuffled even closer once Wilson’s grip on the collar of his vest loosened and his gaze softened. “So yes, I am willing to push boundaries with Matt Murdock, because it means nothing. At the end of the day, I am yours, and _that_ is all that matters to me.”

Wilson let go of the collar and, instead, carded his fingers through Wesley’s short, dark hair. He sighed heavily and let his gaze roam Wesley’s face, studying every small emotion that flitted across his face. “It flatters me when you speak like that,” He said. The tips of his fingers brushed down the side of Wesley’s face now, the touch gentle, loving. Gone was his rage. “I simply want you to be careful. I want you to be safe.” When he reached Wesley’s chin, he tilted it back a little, forcing the man settled between his knees to look up at him. “Your death would destroy me.”

“I can handle Matt Murdock,” Wesley assured him. His hand previously caressing the side of Wilson’s thigh slipped further upwards and dipped down to brush against his crotch. “ _You_ are for more difficult and dangerous to deal with.”

Wilson watched him meticulously. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he waited to see what Wesley would do next. Wesley smiled up at him, a lewd look on his face as his tongue darted out and licked his bottom lick. At that, Wilson parted his lips ever so slightly and sucked in a small breath. Wesley chuckled at the instant reaction. Only _he_ got such a response out of him.

He palmed Wilson’s crotch through his trousers, finding his cock hardening beneath the fabric. It wasn’t easy keeping balance inside the driving vehicle, especially not when it made a corner, but Wilson’s strong thighs kept him in place – and Wilson appeared more than adamant to keep him positioned between his legs.

With teasingly slow movements, Wesley unzipped Wilson’s trousers and tugged them down a bit, just enough to expose his hard, thick length. Just the sight of it had his mouth water and, unable to control himself any longer, Wesley leaned forward, burying his nose into the soft hairs of Wilson’s crotch. He inhaled deeply and allowed himself to be overwhelmed by Wilson’s musk.

Only Wilson had this effect on him. Wesley enthusiastically sucked the tip of his cock into his mouth, tongue licking at the slit, lavishing it with attention. Wilson groaned and let his head fall back against the headrest of his seat. One hand was placed at the back of Wesley’s neck, keeping him in place, while his other smoothed down his back.

Wesley began to swallow him down, not an easy feat considering the width of his girth, but he had trained the muscles of his throat to relax around him. With his tongue, he traced the pulsing vein running along the underside of Wilson’s cock.

Wilson suddenly thrusted his hips upward, getting even deeper into Wesley’s throat, making him gag. He instantly eased back, but he didn’t pull out. Wesley wouldn’t let him anyway. With his hands grasping Wilson’s hips, searching for purchase, he began to bob his head up and down, applying suction so his cheeks hollowed out. Above him, Wilson moaned in pleasure.

The first drops of pre-cum on Wesley’s tongue spurred him on. Wilson’s cock left his mouth with a dirty popping sound and Wesley moved downwards a little, sucking one of Wilson’s balls into his mouth. He reveled at the way Wilson jumped at the sensation, at the way his breath stuttered within his chest.

Chuckling, Wesley ran the tip of his nose along the length of Wilson’s wet cock before parting his lips again to take it back into his mouth, but Wilson beat him to it. He thrust his hips upward again, and began fucking his face, hard and relentless, uncaring whether Wesley could breathe or not, which was such a fucking turn-on that Wesley felt his own arousal grow.

He couldn’t touch himself, though. He had to dig his nails into Wilson’s hips, needing to hold onto them. Wilson’s grip on the back of his neck tightened and his other hand fisted his hair. Wesley closed his eyes when tears stung them. Seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly, but eventually, finally, Wilson found his release and spilled down Wesley’s throat.

Wesley had no other choice but to swallow everything his boss had to give and he fucking loved it. Once Wilson’s merciless thrusts evened out, once his grip on Wesley’s body relented, Wesley pulled back a little, only so he could suck at the tip of Wilson’s cock, demanding every last drop his cock had to give.

“Greedy,” Wilson muttered with a thick, sated voice.

Wilson’s now flaccid cock slipped from his lips, and Wesley looked at him from underneath dark eyelashes.

“And you call me dangerous and difficult to handle,” Wilson added. His fingers carded through Wesley’s hair, the gesture now soft, affectionate. He closed the distance between them and kissed the corners of his eyes where a few tears had escaped before moving to his mouth. His lips moved lazily against Wesley’s, tongue slowly working its way into his mouth.

Wesley all but melted into the kiss. His fingers slipped underneath Wilson’s shirt, finding only soft skin covering hard muscle, but before he could move further upwards, Wilson stopped him.

The car had come to a halt.

“I shall return the favor tonight,” Wilson said as he pulled away from Wesley and rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip, “For now, get decent,” He ordered as he tucked himself away, “We have business to attend to.”

• • •

After a long wait, a key finally slid into the lock. Wesley glanced up, having been staring at the floor, lost in thought, and waited for the door to open. He didn’t move from where he was seated, though his muscles tensed a little, in anticipation. Slowly, the door was pushed open and revealed Matt Murdock. The man stood still, one hand against the metal of the door and his other clenched tightly around his cane.

There was a moment of complete silence – though Matthew probably heard noises Wesley couldn’t. Was he listening to the pace of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat? Wesley hoped he was. He wanted Matt to hear how calm he felt, despite the physical tension claiming his body. Ever since he ran into him three days ago, he had been looking forward to this moment. It was normal he felt excited.

“Get out,” Matt said. He closed the door behind him with too much force. It betrayed his anger.

“Is that any way to treat a guest?” Wesley asked. He rose from the couch and straightened imaginary creases out of his suit. Truth be told, this place felt … tainted and made him crave a shower – and Wilson’s apartment, which was stylish and polished and clean.

“We’re not in public,” Matt said as he walked further into his home. Once close enough, he tossed his white cane onto the couch and took off his sunglasses. His brown eyes were fixed on Wesley, though not quite. He looked a bit too much to the right.

“No, we aren’t,” Wesley conceded, “Imagine all the possibilities.”

“Get. _Out_.” Matt’s features were hard, taut. His gaze stood cold, distant, and his jaw was locked in place. His hands were balled into fists and Wesley could practically feel the strain radiating from his body. “Or do you doubt a blind man can kick your ass?”

“No, I don’t doubt,” Wesley smiled. It was too easy to push all of Matt’s buttons, to push him into a corner and wait for him to lash out like a trapped animal. He took a calculated step forward, closer towards him, and when Matt didn’t move back, his smile grew. “But I _do_ doubt that kicking my ass is what you really want.” He paused a moment and watched Matt’s mind race behind those hazel eyes. “Have you given my proposition thought?”

Matt’s fist shot forward, hitting Wesley’s mouth. His head got thrown back at the force of the punch and, instinctively, Wesley reached up to cover the sore spot. For a few long seconds, nothing happened, until Wesley lowered his hand again and looked at Matthew, finding a very pleased grin on his face, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth.

He flicked out his tongue and tasted the blood dripping from his lower lip.

“Do you smell it?” He asked. “The blood?”

At the question, Matt’s grin vanished. His nostrils flared and, yes, he could definitely smell the thickness of it. Wesley wondered if he could even taste faint metallic residue on his tongue since all of his senses were so incredibly heightened.

“How much does it turn you on?”

Matt’s fist propelled forwards a second time, but Wesley was prepared. He caught it mid-air and held onto it tightly, his fingers curling around the white knuckles. The touch felt electric and, for a brief moment, they stood frozen in place, before Matthew jerked his hand back. He threw himself at Wesley, using the weight of his body to throw him off balance, and knocked an elbow against the side of Wesley’s face, knocking his glasses off. The blow dazed him, but this wasn’t his first fight and he easily recovered.

Matthew turned, planning to use the momentum of the action to land an effective kick to Wesley’s side, but Wesley darted out of reach in time. He threw out an arm and knocked it against Matt’s shoulder. It sent him stumbling forward and he tripped over the low coffee table. Matt fell to his knees, but he didn’t stay down. He rolled over and jumped back onto his feet a short distance from Wesley.

“I thought a blind man was going to kick my ass,” He joked.

Matt growled and launched forward. This time, his fist knocked against Wesley’s right eye, blinding him for a moment, darkness stealing his vision, but Wesley blinked it away and counter-attacked. Once close enough, he kicked out a foot, hitting the back of Matt’s knee, forcing him down, and grabbed a handful of his short, brown hair. He knocked Matt’s head against the surface of the coffee table, hard enough to leave a dent.

Blood dripped from Matt’s nose, and while he was obviously disoriented, he had the advantage of knowing every inch of this apartment. Without hesitation, he shifted away from Wesley and jumped back up onto his feet behind the couch.

Wesley’s gaze fell onto the white cane lying on the couch. He grabbed hold of it and stepped around the couch, following Matthew who was trying to find a moment in order to catch his breath. Matt angrily, frustratingly, wiped away the blood trickling down his lips. Wesley beat the end of the cane against Matt’s lower back, drawing a startled cry from his bloody lips.

Matt stumbled forward until he hit the edge of the cooking island. His chest was heaving and his hands were trembling. Wesley adored the sight, but the fight wasn’t over, not yet. He knocked the cane against Matt’s thighs next and before Matt threatened to fall down, his hands unable to find purchase even though he stood at the metallic island, Wesley moved closely behind him, pressing his body against Matt’s.

He pressed the cane against Matt’s chest, trapping him.

“How long will you deny it?” He murmured into Matthew’s ear. “Your body is absolutely shaking with it.”

Matt struggled in his hold, but the attempt was weak.

Still, Wesley pressed the cane more tightly against Matt’s chest – a warning.

“How quickly would you come undone …” He started quietly, lustfully, “… if I were to use the cane on that beautiful ass of yours?” Matt released a shuddering breath, which made Wesley smile. He had him right where he wanted to. “I would spank you, little devil, until your ass looks red and raw. I would hurt you, abuse you, before I would grant you release.”

Matt released a shuddering breath before suddenly, quickly, spinning around in Wesley’s arms and pressing his lips against his in a frantic, desperate manner. Wesley used the cane to press Matt more firmly against him, chest to chest, and hungrily returned the kiss, teeth clashing and tongue battling for dominance. Matt’s hands grabbed the edge of Wesley’s trousers, tugging at them, frenziedly unzipping them and shoving a hand down them.

Wesley moaned against Matt’s mouth. Discarding the cane, letting it drop onto the surface of the kitchen island, Wesley let his hands roam down Matt’s back, all the way down to his ass, squeezing it.

“I look forward to wrecking you,” He breathed against Matt’s lips once the kiss broke, their need for air too big, “And I look forward to hearing you beg for more.”

“Jesus Christ,” Matt moaned – a delicate mixture of arousal and self-deprecation. His fingers curled around Wesley’s length and tugged it free, stroking it and rubbing his thumb over the already leaking slit.

Wesley gasped at the feeling of Matt’s warm hand around his erection. He dropped his head, burying it into the crook of Matt’s neck and when he bit down on a soft patch of skin, Matt jerked, but he leaned into his touch nonetheless. Wesley grinned against the side of Matt’s neck and sucked a bruise into the skin there. His hands dwelled to the front of Matt’s jeans and rubbed against his crotch, feeling his hardness strain against its confinements.

“Wesley, please …” Matt’s voice sounded close to breaking.

“Bed,” Wesley ordered, though he didn’t pull away just yet, not until he had given _all_ his orders, “Undress and I’ll give you what you want, what you need.” And just to add strength to his words, he squeezed Matt’s cock through the thickness of his jeans. It wouldn’t surprise him if the man came from this alone – that was how desperate he looked.

There was a loud knock on the door.

“Matt?”

They shot apart like two repelling magnets.

“Matt, I know you’re in there,” Called Foggy, “You left your phone at the office!”

Without thinking, Wesley grabbed the cane and picked up his fallen glasses. He put them on again and stepped back. He tucked himself away, straightened a few folds out of his clothes, and moved to the wall to the right of the cooking island. He pressed his back against it and stared at Matt who still hadn’t moved since they had jumped apart. He stood eerily still and Wesley realized that he wasn’t breathing. His hazel eyes were fixed on a void point in space and his hands were balled into fists by his sides.

“Matty!” Foggy called again, louder this time. “I know you can hear me! Get off your lazy ass!”

“Matthew,” Wesley said softly, and Matt’s head instantly snapped towards him, his eyes darting around, as if searching for him, but never finding him, never being able to pin him down, “You should open the door.”

There was another moment where nothing happened, where there was only silence in the apartment, and then Matt seemed to snap out of it. He grabbed a towel from the rack, dampened it, and used it to wipe away the blood from his face, but there was no way he could hide the swollenness of his nose. There was definitely no chance he could conceal the bruise to the side of his neck in such a short time-span.

Foggy got impatient, his knocks getting louder and faster.

“I’m coming!”

Matthew tossed the towel aside and stepped around the corner, heading for the door. Wesley couldn’t see him anymore, so he focused on what he heard instead. He listened to Matthew opening the door and, more importantly, he listened to the silence that followed. He wished he could see the look on Foggy’s face right now, but announcing his presence would lead to nothing positive.

Finally, “Shit, Matt, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Matt replied, and Wesley could practically hear the reassuring smile playing around the corners of his lips. It was pleasant to think he was starting to know and understand Matt in such intimate ways. “You said you had my phone?”

“Yeah, here,” Foggy said, “Who did that to you? Is your nose broken?”

“No, Foggy, it’s not. It was an accident, which happens when you’re blind and you’re not paying attention, you know?” Wesley couldn’t believe that was actual humor in Matt’s voice. It was also good to know the man could melt into a role with ease, could shift from dark to light in the blink of an eye. “Thanks for the phone. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”

“Okay.” Foggy didn’t sound reassured at all.

But the door closed with a loud, echoing click, indicating that he had left.

Wesley waited for a few more moments, listening to movements, but there was none. With the cane still in hand, Wesley pushed himself away from the wall and rounded the corner to find Matt pressing his forehead against the cool, metallic surface of the door. The palms of his hands rested against the surface, too. His eyes were closed.

“I hope you’re not feeling bad for lying,” He said, a hint of amusement to his voice.

Matt’s hands turned to fists. “Foggy is my best friend and–”

“And you lie to him every day,” Wesley finished the sentence for him. Matt, forehead still against the door, looked at him – or made an attempt. “He doesn’t know you’re the devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” He continued before Matt could say anything, “He doesn’t know who you are, not really. He doesn’t have a clue about your … desires.”

Standing a few feet away from Matt, Wesley lifted the cane and pressed the end of it to the underside of Matthew’s chin. Instantly, Matthew tensed, but he didn’t try and push it away. He simply turned to Wesley and straightened his back. His gaze darkened instantly, with lust, with want.

Wesley grinned at the easy response.

“Bastard,” Matt spat.

“Yes,” Wesley agreed, “Now do as you are told, little devil.” He let the end of the cane slip down Matthew’s chest, down and down, over his crotch and down his left thigh. Matt didn’t move, because he didn’t want Wesley to stop. The flush creeping up his neck, to his cheeks, betrayed his newfound arousal.

Because Matt didn’t initiate movement, Wesley hit the cane against Matt’s hip. It drew a startled gasp from Matt’s lips. Matt’s hand curled around the cane, holding it in place, preventing Wesley from hitting him again. And then he tugged at it, forcing Wesley to step forward. As soon as he was close enough, Matt grabbed hold of the edge of Wesley’s shirt and pulled him close to kiss him.

“Do it then,” He breathed against his lips a moment later, “Just get it over with.”

Shame and self-hatred filled his gaze – it was beautiful to see. Wesley eagerly kissed him again, his tongue sliding over Matthew’s. Matt’s hands desperately grasped at his shirt, either hoping to find purchase or he wanted to tear it clean off of Wesley’s body.

Wesley guided them to the bedroom, stumbling along the way, but he didn’t care. He had Matt. That was all that mattered. Once close enough, he shoved Matthew away from him and watched him fall backwards onto the mattress. Matt sucked in a deep breath, fully aware of what would follow now, and Wesley absolutely adored the way those eyes flitted across the room, always searching.

He placed the cane against the side of the bed and kneeled between Matthew’s parted knees. Without preamble, Wesley tugged off Matt’s shoes, jeans and underwear, and tossed them aside. Next went his shirt, which he tore from his body, leaving the man completely naked. It was everything Wesley had imagined it would be – hardened skin covering taut muscles, revealing scars and bruises, healing cuts and other wounds. Every mark was a testament of courage and strength. And idiocy. No sane man would put himself through such torment.

“Turn around,” Wesley said.

Matt shuffled back, until he hit the headboard, but Wesley wasn’t afraid of Matt changing his mind. No, the heavy length between his thighs revealed just how turned on he was. Matt swallowed heavily and then slowly, hesitantly, moved to his hands and knees.

Satisfied, Wesley took hold of the cane again. He let it slip against Matt’s back.

“I’m going to beat your ass five times,” He announced. He was surprised to hear his own voice so lustful, so promiscuous, but he allowed himself the openness. Whether Matt heard or not, it didn’t matter. “And you are going to count,” He added.

“Fuck,” Matt cursed as he dropped his head onto the pillow beneath him. He sunk to his elbows, too, which Wesley didn’t mind since it exposed his ass all the more.

“You better count, little devil,” He warned, and then he whipped him for the first time, hard, drawing an instant, panicked hiss from Matt’s lips.

Matt’s body rocked forward, but he didn’t fall down. “One,” He said a moment later, after having caught his breath. When he got whipped a second time, he moaned, but the sound was muffled. He was pressing his face against the pillow now, desperate to hide just how much he enjoyed this. “Two,” He said, and his voice didn’t sound as steady anymore.

After the third strike and a choked “Three”, Wesley paused. The skin of Matt’s ass was flaming red, and when Wesley brushed the tips of his fingers against the welts he had created, he found them warm. But Matt’s erection hung hard between his legs, dripping pre-cum onto the sheets below him.

“Wesley,” He forced out.

Wesley replied with another whipping, using more this time. Matt cried out and tossed his head back, his breath caught inside his lungs, and Wesley could spot the tears slipping down his cheeks. But Matt was writhing, desperate for more, and when he gasped out “Four”, it was as close to a prayer as Wesley had ever heard.

“One more,” Wesley said.

The cane hit him again, Wesley aiming for an existing welt, and Matt sobbed against the pillow.

“Five.”

Wesley smiled proudly.

Matt flopped onto his back and pulled Wesley on top of him. Their mouths crashed together and Wesley eagerly parted his lips, letting Matthew in, letting his tongue lick into his mouth. Matt folded his legs around Wesley’s waist, holding him in place – not that Wesley planned to move away. He could feel Matt bucking his hips upwards, seeking friction.

Wesley wrapped a hand around Matt’s cock and started jerking him off, setting a fast, but steady pace.

“I need–” Matt bit down on his lower lip, until he drew blood.

“You need what?” Wesley demanded. He carded his fingers through Matt’s brown hair and pulled at it, the motion enough to have more tears leak from the corners of Matt’s eyes. “Tell me, Matthew. It’s why I’m here; to give you what you need.”

Matt’s hands began scrambling at Wesley’s trousers again, unzipping them and pushing them down his hips. Wesley understood what Matt needed in that moment and he was fully prepared to give it to him. Right now, he would give that man everything.

Without preparation, without lube or condom, Wesley lined the tip of his cock with Matt’s hole. He prodded it, testing, and when he found Matt extremely tight, he stopped – which was hypocritical after everything he had put the man through, but there was simply something innately … unethical about fucking a man like this.

“Lube,” He said. He just didn’t have enough air in him to form full sentences. Nor did he want to waste too much time.

“Just do it,” Matt snapped.

Wesley grabbed hold of Matthew’s chin and forced the man to look at him – which was a bit pointless, but whatever. “If you want me to fuck you, you better tell me where I can find lube,” He demanded.

Matt groaned, but he flung out an arm and pointed at a nightstand beside the bed. “There,” He said.

It took only a few seconds to find it, and a few more to pour some into the palm of his hand and spread it over his achingly hard length. Wesley settled back between Matt’s legs and forced his knees apart. Glancing down, he sighed wistfully, the sight of Matt’s red, abused ass gorgeous.

“Wesley,” Matt moaned, disliking the pause.

Wesley’s attention snapped back up to Matthew’s features, finding them contorted with pleasure. How could he deny such a beautiful man? Wesley pressed his cock into Matt’s body, slowly, well aware of the tight fit, but Matt seemed to love it. He cried out, his lips forming a perfect ‘o’ and his hands scrambled at the bedsheets.

“Oh God,” He gasped as he writhed beneath Wesley, “Oh God, that’s …”

Once fully sheathed inside of him, Wesley released a breath of his own, unaware that he had been holding it, but Matt’s ass around his cock, tight and so hot, was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He definitely wasn’t ready yet to cum. He dropped his head to Matt’s chest and sucked another bruise into the skin there. Matt was still twisting and turning, hopelessly trying to adjust to the girth filling him.

Only their heavy breathing filled the room, along with the smell of sex. Wesley rolled his hips, testing again, and when he heard Matt cry out in pleasure and pain alike, he knew they were good to go. He wasn’t gentle – that wasn’t the point of this … proposal – nor was he kind. He pulled out of Matt and slammed right back in, again and again, while listening to the moans and sobs and pleas that fell from Matt’s lips.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. Wesley set a brutal pace and fucked Matt hard and relentless. Matt’s hands scratched at his back, desperate to hold onto something, but not finding anything, and Wesley found himself leaning into the touch.

The noises leaving Matt grew louder and more frantic, until he arched off of the bed and spilled all over his stomach and chest. His eyes were screwed shut as the orgasm overtook him.

Wesley continued to pound into him, chasing his own release, but with Matthew’s ass clenching and unclenching around his cock, it wasn’t difficult to give into the over-stimulating pleasure. Wesley gasped for air as he filled Matt with his cum, feeling it ease the way and drip out of his ass with every thrust he gave. Matt wrapped a hand around the back of Wesley’s neck and kissed him like a touch- and kiss-deprived man.

Eventually, Wesley’s hips stilled, but he didn’t pull out, not yet. He stayed hovering above Matt, their lips moving in unison, the kiss slowing down and becoming something different altogether, something … profound. When it ended, Wesley finally pulled out and rolled onto his back. He would rather stand and leave – just like that, without a word – but he didn’t trust his legs just yet.

Matt stayed beside him, a hand resting on top of his heaving chest. He was staring up at the ceiling, but there was a haze to his eyes. Wesley wondered what was going through his mind right now, but after Matt turned onto his side and curled in on himself, it wasn’t hard to guess.

Disgust joined the previous self-loathing and shame.

Wesley couldn’t suppress an appeased grin from curving the edges of his lips upwards. And just to add fuel to the already raging fire, he reached out and brushed a hand down the side of Matt’s face. This time, he did pull away, as if the touch stung, but Wesley persisted and traced the rapidly pulsing vein down the side of his neck. This time, Matt remained still.

“I’m gonna go clean up,” He said after a few long minutes of silence, “I’ll let myself out after. Don’t bother getting out of bed. You look like you could use some rest.”

Still Matt didn’t move.

“It suits you,” Wesley added as he pushed himself into a sitting position and stared down at the man who looked absolutely wrecked, “The brooding and the self-hatred.”

Matt’s eyes fluttered shut. He pressed his lips together until they were nothing more but two thin lines, and Wesley wondered just what exactly he was trying to hold back. Curses? Cries? A long, loud, agonized scream?

“Until next time,” He said as he zipped his trousers back up and rolled out of bed, “Little devil of mine.”


End file.
